If you know me even slightly, you know I read a lot. All the time. Normally about 3 or 4 books a week, depending on how intense they are, the subject matter, the writing. Mostly I read fiction but lately more non-fiction. However, not since Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles (the best being "Interview with a Vampire" which is excellent reading) have I read a book about vampires. Because of an article in the NY TImes book section regarding the best books of 2011, I just read "The Strain." I want to make perfectly clear that this book was written in 2005 and thus NOT on their best book list. But it was mentioned because the third book in the trilogy was published in 2011, "The Night Eternal" and a few reviewers liked it a lot. "The Strain" is the first book in the trilogy.
I must say, vampires or not, it is a good, but gruesome, read. The writing is tight, the descriptions are excellent and the characters, at least the non-vampire characters, are steadfast and oddly engaging. Who knew? Me reading the first in a trilogy about vampires? And these are not the vampires we have all come to know and hate. These don't have dark cloaks, nor do they have fangs, nor do they simply suck the blood from their victims. That would be too easy, too neat, too tidy. I won't describe what happens with these vamps but suffice it to say that they are a sort of walking hell, and we will leave it at that.
One of the authors, Guillermo del Toro, is a movie director who directed "Pan's Labyrinth." The other author is Chuck Hogan, a writer, whose book "Prince of Thieves" was the basis for the movie "The Town." So both authors have credibility in their chosen professions. It shows in the writing, the pacing and the subject matter.
I am not recommending you read this book. You might like it if you like dark, creepy, scary, Stephen King-like novels. I may get the second book in the trilogy from the library, not sure yet. But I found "The Strain" oddly engaging, even if some parts went on too long. (I read about a third of it in one sitting, couldn't put it down.) In the end it was a satisfying, if demented, read. Sometimes it a good thing to get out of one's rut and jump into something totally different. Or at least that's my justification for this creepy and rather scary novel.
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Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Merry Christmas!
Hope you are all enjoying the day, enjoying your friends and family, basking in the joy of the holiday season. Gabe and Annie came over yesterday for some card playing, some crab eating and some champagne drinking and we had a great time. They have gone off to other committments, Cooper and I are sitting on the couch watching old Bette Davis movies. It's a good day.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Holidays
I haven't written too many posts lately, mainly because everything I would write about seems either seasonal (Happy Holidays! Joy! Shopping! Debt!) or trivial (the weather, the mind-numbing aspects of my jobs) or sad (the unemployed, the disenfranchised, politics.) I am not one who gets worked up over the holiday season and we all are tired of talking about the lack of rain and really, Newt for President? See, nothing worth mentioning.
But then again, it is worth mentioning over and over that especially at this time of the year we all need to take our joy and love where we can find it and we need to give it back whenever we can. God, that sounds so unlike me, it almost makes me puke. However, you know what I mean. Small children (other people's small children) are good to have around this time of the year because until they are 4 or 5 years old they really get excited about the holidays. After that, forgetaboutit, they are as consumed with consumerism as a teenager. But to watch a kid stare at a Christmas tree in awe or rip open a two dollar gift, that's something to watch.
Baking cookies and bread: nothing lifts one's spirits like the smell of nutmeg and cinnamon, baking bread, toasted nuts. Cook something good and eat it, or give it away and let someone else's cholesterol levels rise. At least you get to fill your house with good smells.
Being nice: it's difficult to do at this time of the year exactly because of this time of year. Too much traffic, too many people wanting something of you, too much money going out the window on needless gifts if you aren't careful. That doesn't matter, really, you can still be nice to those around you and try and be cheery. At least for an hour or two in the next week. Smile. It doesn't hurt too much, just a little now and then.
Slothfulness: I am a big fan of thisvirtue vice in the winter. It's OK to hang out in your pajamas on Christmas morning (or eve) and do nothing but drink hot coffee til 10:00 am and then hot cider and eat those baked goods. (see above) And watch some schmaltzy holiday thing on TV like "A Christmas Story" or a good family movie like "Reservoir Dogs." (just kidding about that one. about the family part, at least.) Anything to get you into the spirit of being lazy for a couple of hours. It is also the perfect time to drink a little white wine or eggnog with brandy or eat some of that See's Candy you didn't ask for but silently coveted and now can't refuse.
Finally, family: whether it's the family you were born with or the family you created along the way, the holidays were made for sharing nasty tales about the past with friends and family, sharing decent bottles of wine, sharing good food, laughing and crying at the movies you watch while being slothful. Sharing life's bizarre and beautiful moments with people you can sort of relate to while wearing crappy, comfortable clothes is what it's all about.
That's my list of how to make the holidays better: kids, baked goods, smiling, laziness and friends and family. Throw in a little whiskey, some crab and champagne, a dog with fake reindeer ears and that might be as good as it gets. At least for this year.
But then again, it is worth mentioning over and over that especially at this time of the year we all need to take our joy and love where we can find it and we need to give it back whenever we can. God, that sounds so unlike me, it almost makes me puke. However, you know what I mean. Small children (other people's small children) are good to have around this time of the year because until they are 4 or 5 years old they really get excited about the holidays. After that, forgetaboutit, they are as consumed with consumerism as a teenager. But to watch a kid stare at a Christmas tree in awe or rip open a two dollar gift, that's something to watch.
Baking cookies and bread: nothing lifts one's spirits like the smell of nutmeg and cinnamon, baking bread, toasted nuts. Cook something good and eat it, or give it away and let someone else's cholesterol levels rise. At least you get to fill your house with good smells.
Being nice: it's difficult to do at this time of the year exactly because of this time of year. Too much traffic, too many people wanting something of you, too much money going out the window on needless gifts if you aren't careful. That doesn't matter, really, you can still be nice to those around you and try and be cheery. At least for an hour or two in the next week. Smile. It doesn't hurt too much, just a little now and then.
Slothfulness: I am a big fan of this
Finally, family: whether it's the family you were born with or the family you created along the way, the holidays were made for sharing nasty tales about the past with friends and family, sharing decent bottles of wine, sharing good food, laughing and crying at the movies you watch while being slothful. Sharing life's bizarre and beautiful moments with people you can sort of relate to while wearing crappy, comfortable clothes is what it's all about.
That's my list of how to make the holidays better: kids, baked goods, smiling, laziness and friends and family. Throw in a little whiskey, some crab and champagne, a dog with fake reindeer ears and that might be as good as it gets. At least for this year.
Movie Review: "Reservoir Dogs"
Yes, this movie is almost 20 years old but I just watched it in its entirety for the first time that I can remember. (Which means that perhaps I saw the entire thing previously but because of those pesky brain cells that keep vacating the premises, I didn't remember the whole movie.) What I remember from previous viewing interludes is that the movie was very violent. Now, in the 21st century, it doesn't seem all that bad. It is a Quentin Tarantino movie, so yes, there is blood and yes, there is the famous scene where the bad guys cut another guy's ear off, but it's just bloody, not overtly violent. James Bond is more in-your-face violent than these crooks. And hey, it's a movie with bad guys so you have to expect a little gun and knife action.
Basically, it's about a jewelry heist that ends up in the weeds, a couple of guys dead, one shot and bleeding and the rest of the crew running around trying to salvage the operation while trying to figure out what went wrong. A few characters are not what they seem to be and that revelation slowly unfolds for us, the viewer. It is a simple plot, simple story of best laid plans going awry. The thing about "Reservoir Dogs" that makes it worth seeing again is the dialogue. Tarantino is responsible for most of the writing and it almost seems like a one-act play. Most of the action takes place in an abandoned warehouse and all of the characters talk, a lot. It is quick, jumpy, smart and never lags. Yes, there is a lot of cursing and plenty of use of the f-word, but again, what can you expect from Tarantino. The cast is amazing: Harvey Keitel, Tim Roth, Chris Penn, Quentin Tarantino, Steve Buscemi, Michael Madsen. No women, too much testosterone for that.
Bottom line, a good caper movie with excellent dialogue. Definitely worth seeing, definitely worth seeing again if it's been awhile since you checked it out.
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Basically, it's about a jewelry heist that ends up in the weeds, a couple of guys dead, one shot and bleeding and the rest of the crew running around trying to salvage the operation while trying to figure out what went wrong. A few characters are not what they seem to be and that revelation slowly unfolds for us, the viewer. It is a simple plot, simple story of best laid plans going awry. The thing about "Reservoir Dogs" that makes it worth seeing again is the dialogue. Tarantino is responsible for most of the writing and it almost seems like a one-act play. Most of the action takes place in an abandoned warehouse and all of the characters talk, a lot. It is quick, jumpy, smart and never lags. Yes, there is a lot of cursing and plenty of use of the f-word, but again, what can you expect from Tarantino. The cast is amazing: Harvey Keitel, Tim Roth, Chris Penn, Quentin Tarantino, Steve Buscemi, Michael Madsen. No women, too much testosterone for that.
Bottom line, a good caper movie with excellent dialogue. Definitely worth seeing, definitely worth seeing again if it's been awhile since you checked it out.
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Friday, December 16, 2011
Old
Quick post: went to Sacramento to visit my Mom who now lives in a "Senior Community." She loves it, she has lots of new friends, it is a clean and well cared for place, there are no dying people there so it isn't depressing (hmm, that is a subject for debate) and the people who work there are nice and caring. The lobby is decorated for Christmas with a beautiful tree and poinsettias and lights and candles and sparkly stuff. Nice. Very nice. Very cheery. Very old people-ish. A bit out of the land of reality.
But that's just my innately cynical commentary. I will leave that alone.
Mom and I and my sister Kate had a good dinner, Mom insisted on paying and Kate and I let her pay. She has more money rolling in right now than we do, at least more discretionary money, of which Kate and I have none. It was a good visit but it was good to leave and drive home. Staying in the land of the very old was very tough.
More on that to follow, once I digest it all.
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But that's just my innately cynical commentary. I will leave that alone.
Mom and I and my sister Kate had a good dinner, Mom insisted on paying and Kate and I let her pay. She has more money rolling in right now than we do, at least more discretionary money, of which Kate and I have none. It was a good visit but it was good to leave and drive home. Staying in the land of the very old was very tough.
More on that to follow, once I digest it all.
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Monday, December 12, 2011
Movie Review: "Andrew Zimmer"
Realizing that probably very few of you reading this will watch it, I still have to plug a movie from 2005, French, subtitled and the basis for the American crap movie "The Tourist." The French movie of which I speak is "Andrew Zimmer." Very smart, very sexy, very quick. Sophie Marceau is so much more real and much hotter than Angelina Jolie and yet trickier and without the pouting lip thing. The movie moves quickly and it wasn't until three quarters into it that I figured out a major twist, but then, I am slow on those things. I buy into everything and trust everything, as you know, so am always surprised by those plot devices designed to throw the viewer into the weeds. I am always digging out of the weeds at the end of the movie but this time I got one thing before it was handed to me on a trowel, to continue that metaphor.
The story is about mistaken identity and mis-taken identity. Innocent victim falls prey to greedy siren who has a couple of tricks up her sleeve but said victim agrees to go along for the ride. It's a good ride, all in all and we, the viewer, are happy to hang in there for it. Can't say much more without spoiler alerts, so will just leave it at this: two thumbs up, check it out.
It isn't on DVD but you can instant watch on Netflix and I advise you do. Good entertainment. And hey, it is always nice to hear French spoken and see some of the area around Nice.
Bonne nuit!
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The story is about mistaken identity and mis-taken identity. Innocent victim falls prey to greedy siren who has a couple of tricks up her sleeve but said victim agrees to go along for the ride. It's a good ride, all in all and we, the viewer, are happy to hang in there for it. Can't say much more without spoiler alerts, so will just leave it at this: two thumbs up, check it out.
It isn't on DVD but you can instant watch on Netflix and I advise you do. Good entertainment. And hey, it is always nice to hear French spoken and see some of the area around Nice.
Bonne nuit!
.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Tree, Texas, Christmas and Damn Good Bread
In Texas with Jenn for a couple of days, actually flying home later today. It was a delightful time, partly because we bought a xmas tree and decorated it and it is so, so lovely. It has been a while since I got to sit and stare at a tree for a couple of days in a row. Nice, very nice. Texas is, of course, just like I left it at the beginning of September, only a bit colder, days are in the 40's, nights much lower. But still a land of fast food, slow people and the Christian right.
Baking smells are wafting up the stairs right now, there is Damn Good Bread in the oven and it smells..... well, it smells damn good. I will leave it for Jenn, a little something to remember me by for the next couple of days. (In return, I stole some of her oatmeal cookies out of the freezer, already stashed them in my suitcase. She has no idea of this treachery, and I have no intention of telling her!)
All in all, a great visit. Cheap airfares may allow me to return in late January when there may be snow on the ground. Bottom line, it is always good to get out of town, and even better to get out of town and see one's kid!
Adios, more tomorrow.
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Baking smells are wafting up the stairs right now, there is Damn Good Bread in the oven and it smells..... well, it smells damn good. I will leave it for Jenn, a little something to remember me by for the next couple of days. (In return, I stole some of her oatmeal cookies out of the freezer, already stashed them in my suitcase. She has no idea of this treachery, and I have no intention of telling her!)
All in all, a great visit. Cheap airfares may allow me to return in late January when there may be snow on the ground. Bottom line, it is always good to get out of town, and even better to get out of town and see one's kid!
Adios, more tomorrow.
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Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Cold
Not to state the obvious, but boy was it cold this morning. It isn't the first time in the past few weeks I've had to pour warm water on my car windows to melt the frost but it seems that the temps aren't warming up much as the day goes on. It's friggin cold.
But then, what babies we are here in California when it comes to cold weather. 59 degrees isn't really that cold when you think of the states (and countries) that get down to way below freezing for days and days at a time. That's cold. Makes you almost glad to pay the PGE bill when you think about what those folks pay during the winter.
It's that time of year when we should think about people without homes and we should try to imagine what they are going through. It's time to reach into our pockets and find a little extra money and give it to the charity of our choosing. Even $20 helps places like St. Anthony's Dining Room or any of the local food distribution places that exist in every city. Just do a google search for "Marin county food bank" or any county, of course, and you can donate on-line in two minutes. If we can afford to buy a Christmas gift, if we can afford to have a good meal over the holidays, we can afford to help others out.
I am going to Texas on Wednesday morning to visit Jenn for three days, and that makes me very happy. I know I swore I wouldn't return to that state for a while after my long, hot summer, but I need to see my girl. Hopefully we can put up a Christmas tree and decorate the dog for the holidays, have some good eats and watch junky TV for an afternoon or two. Jenn wants to get a canning pot and jars and we might see about doing that as well, make some jam for gifts. All in all, it will be a very nice couple of days.
Give, give, give.......
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But then, what babies we are here in California when it comes to cold weather. 59 degrees isn't really that cold when you think of the states (and countries) that get down to way below freezing for days and days at a time. That's cold. Makes you almost glad to pay the PGE bill when you think about what those folks pay during the winter.
It's that time of year when we should think about people without homes and we should try to imagine what they are going through. It's time to reach into our pockets and find a little extra money and give it to the charity of our choosing. Even $20 helps places like St. Anthony's Dining Room or any of the local food distribution places that exist in every city. Just do a google search for "Marin county food bank" or any county, of course, and you can donate on-line in two minutes. If we can afford to buy a Christmas gift, if we can afford to have a good meal over the holidays, we can afford to help others out.
I am going to Texas on Wednesday morning to visit Jenn for three days, and that makes me very happy. I know I swore I wouldn't return to that state for a while after my long, hot summer, but I need to see my girl. Hopefully we can put up a Christmas tree and decorate the dog for the holidays, have some good eats and watch junky TV for an afternoon or two. Jenn wants to get a canning pot and jars and we might see about doing that as well, make some jam for gifts. All in all, it will be a very nice couple of days.
Give, give, give.......
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Friday, December 2, 2011
Movie Review: "McCabe and Mrs. Miller"
The fact that this movie was made in 1971 shouldn't deter you from renting it. I probably saw it in the theater but didn't remember much about it except that it was really good, but in a way I couldn't describe then. (Come on, I was 21 and my movie skills were very poor, just starting to come around.) It is one of Robert Altman's earliest films and it is worth seeing just for that reason, especially if you have followed his movies over his lifetime and can appreciate the progression in his directing.
The movie stars two iconic figures of that time, Warren Beatty and Julie Christie. The supporting cast is made up of character actors that we still see in support roles today. The scene is a cold, bleak Western town, very small, very poor and very muddy. This is probably a fairly true depiction of how some of those small towns were in those days, no wood sidewalks, no sheriff office, one saloon/boarding house and one saloon/whorehouse. Lots of dirty men, no women to speak of except for those in the brothel.
Into this town comes John McCabe (Beatty), intent on opening a whore house and making some money. His business sense isn't great, he isn't too smart about anything but he is smart enough to know he isn't doing a great job. He struggles and his "girls" know nothing about whoring. Quick on his heels comes Mrs. Miller (Christie) who is a professional prostitute and she brings her stable of women with her. After a few episodes of butting heads, the two form a partnership and thus the brothel is in business.
The plot is simple up to that point but is complicated by a large corporation who wants to buy the entire town. McCabe doesn't want to sell, Mrs. Miller does, and things take a turn towards the darkness.
Beatty is excellent as the guy trying to make it big in a hard, cold world. He has this way of talking to himself as he walks towards a building or as he mounts his horse, and it is the perfect indication of the character's uncertainty, hesitation and, at the same time, determination. Christie is gorgeous as a tough madam who is concerned for her girls but also concerned about making money and getting out of the business. The weather in the film is always cold, raining or snowing; the color palette is fairly monochrome and everyone, except Mrs. Miller, looks dirty all the time. You can almost feel the cold seeping into their clothes. In one scene, the girls are taking a bath and you can really sense their joy and relief in getting into a warm tub.
The end of the movie is as cold as the weather. There is no justice, of course, but that was part of the lawlessness of the West. Altman made a very good film here, a precursor of his later work. (As a point of interest, he directed a great deal of the early TV series such as "Bonanza" and "Maverick." His depiction of that era in this movie far surpasses anything in those series.)
The movie holds up well, the performances are excellent and it is a true study in character and place. Check it out.
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The movie stars two iconic figures of that time, Warren Beatty and Julie Christie. The supporting cast is made up of character actors that we still see in support roles today. The scene is a cold, bleak Western town, very small, very poor and very muddy. This is probably a fairly true depiction of how some of those small towns were in those days, no wood sidewalks, no sheriff office, one saloon/boarding house and one saloon/whorehouse. Lots of dirty men, no women to speak of except for those in the brothel.
Into this town comes John McCabe (Beatty), intent on opening a whore house and making some money. His business sense isn't great, he isn't too smart about anything but he is smart enough to know he isn't doing a great job. He struggles and his "girls" know nothing about whoring. Quick on his heels comes Mrs. Miller (Christie) who is a professional prostitute and she brings her stable of women with her. After a few episodes of butting heads, the two form a partnership and thus the brothel is in business.
The plot is simple up to that point but is complicated by a large corporation who wants to buy the entire town. McCabe doesn't want to sell, Mrs. Miller does, and things take a turn towards the darkness.
Beatty is excellent as the guy trying to make it big in a hard, cold world. He has this way of talking to himself as he walks towards a building or as he mounts his horse, and it is the perfect indication of the character's uncertainty, hesitation and, at the same time, determination. Christie is gorgeous as a tough madam who is concerned for her girls but also concerned about making money and getting out of the business. The weather in the film is always cold, raining or snowing; the color palette is fairly monochrome and everyone, except Mrs. Miller, looks dirty all the time. You can almost feel the cold seeping into their clothes. In one scene, the girls are taking a bath and you can really sense their joy and relief in getting into a warm tub.
The end of the movie is as cold as the weather. There is no justice, of course, but that was part of the lawlessness of the West. Altman made a very good film here, a precursor of his later work. (As a point of interest, he directed a great deal of the early TV series such as "Bonanza" and "Maverick." His depiction of that era in this movie far surpasses anything in those series.)
The movie holds up well, the performances are excellent and it is a true study in character and place. Check it out.
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Monday, November 28, 2011
Calistoga
I am not sure I get what makes Calistoga so desirable in the eyes of travelers. Sure, there are wineries all around the area and yes, you can get a massage and a mud bath in Calistoga and there are tons of places to eat. But really, that can be said of any town in the wine country, with the exception of the promise of a mud bath. (I had one inn guest in Healdsburg who said "....and I found mud for weeks in places I never knew existed on my body and I don't mean that in a good way.") As you drive into Calistoga it is a collection of ramshackle, faded cottages that appear to never get sun, surrounded by dense foliage. As you get closer to town some of the cottages turn into quaint (i.e. old) lodging establishments. Once you are in the town, there are more places to stay here in this town of around 5,000 than one can imagine. Probably about 50 commercial inns, cottages, lodges, spas, hotels, motels. Prices from $20 a night to over $900 a night. Something for everyone's budget, obviously.
But you drive down the main street, Lincoln Avenue, and before you know it you have done the entire town and it is as if you are nowhere. Or it is like you could be anywhere. It is a collection of shops and eateries and specialty stores and cute things like dream-catchers but it all seems so unnecessary and trite. Oh, wait, that could just be my attitude about things like dream-catchers and needless commercial junk. So perhaps my lack of feeling about Calistoga is more about my dislike of over-buying and spending money (that I clearly don't have) on gratuitous "stuff."
Ah, I feel much better now. Imposing my value system on a small town is silly. Better to let the hoards of tourists impose theirs and thus generate revenue for shop and restaurant and spa and hotel owners. It is, after all, the American way. Go free enterprise! Go personal debt! Go heedless and needless purchasing power of the masses!
Cynical? Me? No. Just in awe, once again, of how the world really works.
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But you drive down the main street, Lincoln Avenue, and before you know it you have done the entire town and it is as if you are nowhere. Or it is like you could be anywhere. It is a collection of shops and eateries and specialty stores and cute things like dream-catchers but it all seems so unnecessary and trite. Oh, wait, that could just be my attitude about things like dream-catchers and needless commercial junk. So perhaps my lack of feeling about Calistoga is more about my dislike of over-buying and spending money (that I clearly don't have) on gratuitous "stuff."
Ah, I feel much better now. Imposing my value system on a small town is silly. Better to let the hoards of tourists impose theirs and thus generate revenue for shop and restaurant and spa and hotel owners. It is, after all, the American way. Go free enterprise! Go personal debt! Go heedless and needless purchasing power of the masses!
Cynical? Me? No. Just in awe, once again, of how the world really works.
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Saturday, November 26, 2011
thankful
I am not going to write about how we all have so much to be thankful for. But I am going to write about how great my Thanksgiving dinner was! Two stuffings, a really delicious turkey with moist and flavorful white meat which I usually never eat. Excellent cranberry sauce, silky mashed potatoes, brussels with bacon and delicious pumpkin pie, everyone was happy. Gabe and Annie, Steve and Martha and me. Small group, great food, relaxed, got to talk to each other without tons of people around, had good wine, no one drank too much and we all got leftovers. Very nice.
Working at the inn in Healdsburg this weekend, there's a little family staying with us, a Mom and Dad and two sons and a daughter-in-law. Possibly Russian, definitely at least Eastern European, and quite odd. (No worries, I am sure they will never read this blog. But then, there is that Eastern European Mafia thing.......) Mom drinks only decaf with skim milk but after brewing an entire pot she only had about an inch of coffee in her cup and filled the rest of her cup with hot water. Dad drinks green tea, uses the same tea bag for three cups, thrifty! Son one has his own tea leaves, uses the hot water, eats an avocado for breakfast and the fritatta I cooked. Son two eats without restraint, drinks nothing. Daughter-in-law eats the fritatta and one piece of toast (none of the three bread eaters want butter) but spurns my fruit in favor of her own tangerine. I was informed, politely, that daughter-in-law and son will leave early tomorrow morning to avoid french toast. Son one might eat it as well as the Dad. Mother will only have scrambled egg whites. No toast. Fruit, perhaps. Gosh. At least there will be two other couples tomorrow morning who will be happy to have bacon and french toast and fresh fruit and coffee.
Ah well..... who cares, really. Come to a bed and breakfast inn and you get what they cook. It was requested that I make poached eggs and whole grain pancakes. Sorry, not on my watch.
This is the time of year that we all need to figure out what we spent on a turkey and wine and all the accouterments and then send that amount, or some amount, to a favorite charity. Even me, with a depleted bank account, is sending some money to St. Anthony's Dining Room. So come on, pony up, and give. Just a little. Even ten bucks makes a difference.
OK, time to mind my turkey soup, which I wasn't going to make but I figured, "hey, free food!" And the broth is friggin tasty. I think the key is browning the leftover bones and then deglazing the pan with white wine and letting it simmer very slowly for a couple of hours. I will add sauteed garlic, fresh ginger, some hot peppers tomorrow, along with red pepper, snap peas, mushrooms and perhaps some rice and have dinner for several days.
Gorgeous weather. Go for a walk.
.
Working at the inn in Healdsburg this weekend, there's a little family staying with us, a Mom and Dad and two sons and a daughter-in-law. Possibly Russian, definitely at least Eastern European, and quite odd. (No worries, I am sure they will never read this blog. But then, there is that Eastern European Mafia thing.......) Mom drinks only decaf with skim milk but after brewing an entire pot she only had about an inch of coffee in her cup and filled the rest of her cup with hot water. Dad drinks green tea, uses the same tea bag for three cups, thrifty! Son one has his own tea leaves, uses the hot water, eats an avocado for breakfast and the fritatta I cooked. Son two eats without restraint, drinks nothing. Daughter-in-law eats the fritatta and one piece of toast (none of the three bread eaters want butter) but spurns my fruit in favor of her own tangerine. I was informed, politely, that daughter-in-law and son will leave early tomorrow morning to avoid french toast. Son one might eat it as well as the Dad. Mother will only have scrambled egg whites. No toast. Fruit, perhaps. Gosh. At least there will be two other couples tomorrow morning who will be happy to have bacon and french toast and fresh fruit and coffee.
Ah well..... who cares, really. Come to a bed and breakfast inn and you get what they cook. It was requested that I make poached eggs and whole grain pancakes. Sorry, not on my watch.
This is the time of year that we all need to figure out what we spent on a turkey and wine and all the accouterments and then send that amount, or some amount, to a favorite charity. Even me, with a depleted bank account, is sending some money to St. Anthony's Dining Room. So come on, pony up, and give. Just a little. Even ten bucks makes a difference.
OK, time to mind my turkey soup, which I wasn't going to make but I figured, "hey, free food!" And the broth is friggin tasty. I think the key is browning the leftover bones and then deglazing the pan with white wine and letting it simmer very slowly for a couple of hours. I will add sauteed garlic, fresh ginger, some hot peppers tomorrow, along with red pepper, snap peas, mushrooms and perhaps some rice and have dinner for several days.
Gorgeous weather. Go for a walk.
.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Glass elevators
Brought back to my attention by a short article in the SF Chronicle, and by Jenn and Stacey, I must comment on my love for the glass elevators at the Westin St. Francis Hotel. When the kids were little we would take BART into SF (or sometimes drive) and I would get my hair cut on Maiden Lane or at the old I. Magnin (closed in the early 80's.) Jenn and Gabe would wait for me and then we would go to the Westin Hotel on Union Square and slowly stroll through the lobby, like we belonged there. We would look at some of the jewelry on display, especially the case of charms that would have gone on a charm bracelet and we would have a little conversation about which ones we liked, the small dog and the tiny house and the one with the little arrow through the teeny heart. We would then mosey over to the elevators. Not just the regular ones, but the bank of elevators that were glass! You had to know where they were and we did.
We were very happy when we got the entire elevator to ourselves. Sometimes if there were other people on with us we would get off at some random floor and catch the next one going up in the hope it would be empty. We would take it up to the top floor and push the "STOP" button to try and make it stay there, just for us. The view from there was and still is incredible. That was when the Embarcadero freeway was still there and before the SF Giants ballpark was built, of course. (It would be cool to see it now.) But you could see all the way across the city, across the bay and a good portion north and south and it was as if you were suspended in midair. It was such a floating feeling, like we could reach down and pick up cars and buildings, they seemed so small because we seemed so high above them. We would take the elevator back down to the lobby and if we were lucky again no one would be on the elevator with us and we would ride it straight down, we could simply free fall (it seemed) through the floor to the lobby. Just watching the ground racing up to meet the elevator was quite the rush, like we were plunging into darkness and into the depths of the unknown.
The three of us could spend a good half hour or more amusing ourselves this way, going up and stopping at a floor, then getting back on and continuing to the top. The best thing was that it was FREE! It still is, of course, and I hope the hotel personnel don't patrol the lobby enough to thwart others who want to enjoy the ride. (We eventually found the side entrance, in case we felt like we needed to sneak into the hotel.) Just to be in that elevator, hanging out on the side of the building, nothing underneath us, glass all around us, it was one of the best things you could do in the City.
Makes me want to do it again, right now. I can't wait to take Sam and (a while later) Henry and introduce them to the joys of riding the glass elevators at the Westin. The other ones to see are the inside glass elevators at the Embarcadero Hyatt Regency which are pretty amazing and beautiful too. They don't have the same attraction because they aren't outside but they are still fun. At Christmas time their huge lobby is lit up with thousands of lights hanging down like brilliant strings of vertical stars.
check the Hyatt out: http://www.flickr.com/photos/kumasawa/5280227021/
Go find free and fun things to do, no matter where you are. Every city has them, whether it is Fort Worth or Chicago, NY or SF. We just have to look for them.
l
We were very happy when we got the entire elevator to ourselves. Sometimes if there were other people on with us we would get off at some random floor and catch the next one going up in the hope it would be empty. We would take it up to the top floor and push the "STOP" button to try and make it stay there, just for us. The view from there was and still is incredible. That was when the Embarcadero freeway was still there and before the SF Giants ballpark was built, of course. (It would be cool to see it now.) But you could see all the way across the city, across the bay and a good portion north and south and it was as if you were suspended in midair. It was such a floating feeling, like we could reach down and pick up cars and buildings, they seemed so small because we seemed so high above them. We would take the elevator back down to the lobby and if we were lucky again no one would be on the elevator with us and we would ride it straight down, we could simply free fall (it seemed) through the floor to the lobby. Just watching the ground racing up to meet the elevator was quite the rush, like we were plunging into darkness and into the depths of the unknown.
The three of us could spend a good half hour or more amusing ourselves this way, going up and stopping at a floor, then getting back on and continuing to the top. The best thing was that it was FREE! It still is, of course, and I hope the hotel personnel don't patrol the lobby enough to thwart others who want to enjoy the ride. (We eventually found the side entrance, in case we felt like we needed to sneak into the hotel.) Just to be in that elevator, hanging out on the side of the building, nothing underneath us, glass all around us, it was one of the best things you could do in the City.
Makes me want to do it again, right now. I can't wait to take Sam and (a while later) Henry and introduce them to the joys of riding the glass elevators at the Westin. The other ones to see are the inside glass elevators at the Embarcadero Hyatt Regency which are pretty amazing and beautiful too. They don't have the same attraction because they aren't outside but they are still fun. At Christmas time their huge lobby is lit up with thousands of lights hanging down like brilliant strings of vertical stars.
check the Hyatt out: http://www.flickr.com/photos/kumasawa/5280227021/
Go find free and fun things to do, no matter where you are. Every city has them, whether it is Fort Worth or Chicago, NY or SF. We just have to look for them.
l
Sunday, November 20, 2011
TV Series review: "The Big C"
While I was imprisoned in Texas (just kidding, Jenn) I had the privilege of watching the second season of "The Big C" and loved it. I am just now watching the first season and it is equally as good. The acting, the dialogue, the entire premise is perfect, at least to me.
First we have Laura Linney who has never been better and honestly I have never seen her turn in anything but a stellar performance in any role. In this, she seems like all of us, trying to deal with cancer (duh, no spoiler there, it's the Big C) on her own without telling her family but knowing she will have to clue them in pretty soon. Every thing she does, every move she makes, every stilted conversation she has seems like how we would act and talk. She makes us identify immediately with her character from the first episode, wanting to dig a pool in her front yard so she can teach her teenage son how to goof off in the pool and do silly dives.
Then we have Oliver Platt, not the obvious choice (to me) to be her husband but the difference in the two characters makes it work and it works fine, at least up to this point in the first season. They are living apart because she is tired of being his mother-waitress-servant-cleaning lady. He can't figure out why she doesn't want him in the house. The two butt heads and reasonably so. He is the kind of guy who shows up at the house with flowers but then wants you to go find a vase to put them in and, while you are at it, get him a beer.
The supporting cast is equally as good, everyone is fleshed out and given some foundation to work with as tangential characters.
It could just be me, I could be reading something into this first season that is too deep or too important. But I am loving it for all the right reasons: acting, script, editing, filming and music. And I can't ignore the emotional context. It is very good. It isn't maudlin, it isn't gratuitous and it certainly isn't sad. Poignant at times, yes, but mostly real and sometimes just purely funny. Check it out. It is available on Netflix so it is probably in the library system as well.
Two thumbs up from here.
.
First we have Laura Linney who has never been better and honestly I have never seen her turn in anything but a stellar performance in any role. In this, she seems like all of us, trying to deal with cancer (duh, no spoiler there, it's the Big C) on her own without telling her family but knowing she will have to clue them in pretty soon. Every thing she does, every move she makes, every stilted conversation she has seems like how we would act and talk. She makes us identify immediately with her character from the first episode, wanting to dig a pool in her front yard so she can teach her teenage son how to goof off in the pool and do silly dives.
Then we have Oliver Platt, not the obvious choice (to me) to be her husband but the difference in the two characters makes it work and it works fine, at least up to this point in the first season. They are living apart because she is tired of being his mother-waitress-servant-cleaning lady. He can't figure out why she doesn't want him in the house. The two butt heads and reasonably so. He is the kind of guy who shows up at the house with flowers but then wants you to go find a vase to put them in and, while you are at it, get him a beer.
The supporting cast is equally as good, everyone is fleshed out and given some foundation to work with as tangential characters.
It could just be me, I could be reading something into this first season that is too deep or too important. But I am loving it for all the right reasons: acting, script, editing, filming and music. And I can't ignore the emotional context. It is very good. It isn't maudlin, it isn't gratuitous and it certainly isn't sad. Poignant at times, yes, but mostly real and sometimes just purely funny. Check it out. It is available on Netflix so it is probably in the library system as well.
Two thumbs up from here.
.
Moving in
Trying to keep things as simple as possible, I am moving very few things into my new tiny place. I have a new bed which is quite comfortable, a few pots, pans, dishes, glasses, towels and clothes. One wooden folding chair and a very small bedside table that is about 18 inches square and serves as my personal dining table. No other furniture right now. I have emptied out most of the boxes and have a few to return to Gabe and Annie's garage or Tom's barn because there is only so much silverware one person needs and I don't have room to store very much stuff. My goal is to get a small couch, a bookshelf and a table that can seat more than just me. I am in no rush to get any of this stuff, other than for comfort. Sitting on the new bed and reading is fine but I know a comfy sofa would be better. And it would be awkward to invite someone over for dinner and have no place for them to sit. "Hey, you want to come over for dinner and bring your own table, chair and perhaps a small sofa for the evening?" Just doesn't smack of hospitality.
But otherwise, it's fine. It is quiet at night and a space heater keeps it warm. It has, of all things, a real flush toilet and the water in the shower is hot! These small things are not so small after all and I am enjoying their availability.
The neighborhood is great, all single family homes built around 1930 or so and up to the 1950's I suppose. Most are older, little bungalow houses and there are wonderful tree-lined streets, perfect for walking the dog. There is a church a block away that chimes the hours, quarter and half hours all day long, which I love. Leaves on the trees are changing so it is quite beautiful right now. There is a small corner neighborhood market three blocks away and downtown Santa Rosa is about a half mile away, so quite close. Cooper and I are taking a lot longer walks than we did previously. He seems to like the place, or at least he likes the bed. There are squirrels and cats he would prefer to chase but I keep him on a short leash, literally, in that regard.
That's it. Just an update. Will post some photos soon.
But otherwise, it's fine. It is quiet at night and a space heater keeps it warm. It has, of all things, a real flush toilet and the water in the shower is hot! These small things are not so small after all and I am enjoying their availability.
The neighborhood is great, all single family homes built around 1930 or so and up to the 1950's I suppose. Most are older, little bungalow houses and there are wonderful tree-lined streets, perfect for walking the dog. There is a church a block away that chimes the hours, quarter and half hours all day long, which I love. Leaves on the trees are changing so it is quite beautiful right now. There is a small corner neighborhood market three blocks away and downtown Santa Rosa is about a half mile away, so quite close. Cooper and I are taking a lot longer walks than we did previously. He seems to like the place, or at least he likes the bed. There are squirrels and cats he would prefer to chase but I keep him on a short leash, literally, in that regard.
That's it. Just an update. Will post some photos soon.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Guest quirks
Having worked in the lodging business off and on for more than 20 years, I am still astonished by some of the requests of guests. Actually it becomes laughable after a while because if you didn't laugh at them (behind their backs), you would have to punch them in the face. Today a woman wanted to know how early she can check into her room. "Check-in is anytime after 3:00" I politely told her. She wanted much earlier, of course, like 11:00 am. "But check-out time isn't until 11:00." She responds: "So I could check in at 11:00 if they are out at 11:00, right?" The concept of cleaning the room hasn't entered her mind. I point that concept out to her. "So then maybe we could get in at 11:30 if they clean the room right away." I point out that there are many rooms to clean and promising her that her room would be the first one cleaned and promising that it would be done in a half hour isn't something I am willing to do. She can't understand why this can't be accomplished. She is determined to get me to agree that she can check in NO LATER than noon. I won't agree to that. She is not happy. Too bad, neither am I.
I did what any part-time employee getting paid less than $14/hour would do: I told her to call the front desk the morning she is scheduled to arrive and discuss it with the manager. HA! No longer my problem.
But honestly, why does everyone think their scenario deserves to be handled in a special manner? So many people want to be the exception to the rule, no matter what that rule is. Checking in early, checking out late, getting a single night on a busy weekend, demanding a better room, a special breakfast, free wine, bringing their cat, the list goes on and on. Innkeepers love the guests who are not demanding and who are grateful to be staying in a nice place and are happy that someone makes them a delicious breakfast. Those are the guests who get the extra care. We go out of our way to get them a reservation at a crowded restaurant or we put a bottle of wine in their room or sneak them extra bacon at breakfast.
My favorite request over the years was a guy who wanted to know if we accepted pets at one of the cottages I was managing. I said we would allow a small dog. He countered with "can I bring my parrot?" For a second I was speechless. A parrot? Really? Bird poop on the floor, on the couch? I said no. He hung up.
Today I am in Calistoga working at a small inn and as I write this a car is driving up, probably guests who want to check in early. Shall I let them or shall I lie and tell them their room is not ready? Heh-heh......
.
I did what any part-time employee getting paid less than $14/hour would do: I told her to call the front desk the morning she is scheduled to arrive and discuss it with the manager. HA! No longer my problem.
But honestly, why does everyone think their scenario deserves to be handled in a special manner? So many people want to be the exception to the rule, no matter what that rule is. Checking in early, checking out late, getting a single night on a busy weekend, demanding a better room, a special breakfast, free wine, bringing their cat, the list goes on and on. Innkeepers love the guests who are not demanding and who are grateful to be staying in a nice place and are happy that someone makes them a delicious breakfast. Those are the guests who get the extra care. We go out of our way to get them a reservation at a crowded restaurant or we put a bottle of wine in their room or sneak them extra bacon at breakfast.
My favorite request over the years was a guy who wanted to know if we accepted pets at one of the cottages I was managing. I said we would allow a small dog. He countered with "can I bring my parrot?" For a second I was speechless. A parrot? Really? Bird poop on the floor, on the couch? I said no. He hung up.
Today I am in Calistoga working at a small inn and as I write this a car is driving up, probably guests who want to check in early. Shall I let them or shall I lie and tell them their room is not ready? Heh-heh......
.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Keys and a mattress
Got the keys to my new digs, going back today to measure the small rooms and figure out a usage plan for them. Something creative, hopefully. I bought a mattress two days ago, the first mattress I have purchased in about 25 years. A had no idea they were so pricey now! Last time I bought one the cost was around $200. Today that doesn't even get you a pillow. But I scored a great deal on a really nice floor model mattress that they (Sleep Train) will dry clean, sanitized and deliver to my door for about half of its regular cost. I am excited to have a new mattress for my Gramma's old bed frame.
I was signing a year lease yesterday with my new landlord and the thought of committing to a year's rent without a regular income was rather daunting. I did express that concern to him and he was fine about the hesitation, said that if it didn't work out we would work together to find a new tenant and he wouldn't keep my deposit if he didn't loose a renter for several months. It would be nice to stay there for a year (or more) and I might feel more confident once I move in and get settled. Right now it just feels a little scary.
However, the thought of only two or three more tepid showers in the trailer cheers me up enormously. I will be in the trailer tonight and tomorrow night, then down to Daly City for a night or two to see friends and gather some of my stored belongings, then back to Santa Rosa to get my stuff moved in. Hopefully Monday night will be the last night in the trailer. Sigh. It did serve a purpose and kept me warm and dry but I will be so happy to be living on solid land, not feeling the entire "building" moving when I get in and out of the shower or sit down on the pseudo-couch too quickly. God knows what would happen in an earthquake, the entire trailer would probably fall over.
That's it for today. More to follow. Photos, too, coming soon.
.
I was signing a year lease yesterday with my new landlord and the thought of committing to a year's rent without a regular income was rather daunting. I did express that concern to him and he was fine about the hesitation, said that if it didn't work out we would work together to find a new tenant and he wouldn't keep my deposit if he didn't loose a renter for several months. It would be nice to stay there for a year (or more) and I might feel more confident once I move in and get settled. Right now it just feels a little scary.
However, the thought of only two or three more tepid showers in the trailer cheers me up enormously. I will be in the trailer tonight and tomorrow night, then down to Daly City for a night or two to see friends and gather some of my stored belongings, then back to Santa Rosa to get my stuff moved in. Hopefully Monday night will be the last night in the trailer. Sigh. It did serve a purpose and kept me warm and dry but I will be so happy to be living on solid land, not feeling the entire "building" moving when I get in and out of the shower or sit down on the pseudo-couch too quickly. God knows what would happen in an earthquake, the entire trailer would probably fall over.
That's it for today. More to follow. Photos, too, coming soon.
.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Moving on!
The good news: I found a non-trailer place to live! A place actually with a foundation and real walls, with hot water and a toilet that flushes, with a small yard (shared) and a teeny gas stove and large outdoor gas grill! It's small, no doubt about that but I think it will be fine. Part of a duplex, main house in front, two conjoined units in back, single woman living in the other one. Martha volunteered to go with me to look at it and we were the first people to see it and I rushed my paperwork over the next day and lo and behold, it is now going to be my new home.
I still have doubts, of course, about the wisdom of committing to something for six or twelve months when I have no income except a two day a week, low paying job. The gig here at the inn runs out at the end of this week because there are no more bookings, and I don't anticipate the big winter special promotion to fill up the house in the near future. (Yes, pessimistic, I admit.) Once January 1 arrives, the previous manager will be back at work and thus, adios to me. Until it gets really busy, perhaps in late spring, it isn't a job that is demanding and so is easy for one person to handle. Without a good income, renting an apartment almost seems financially foolish. But onward I go, into the breach. If no work materializes by January 31, I can always walk away from the lease, forfeit my deposit and ....... do what? I don't know. Go back to Texas for a couple of months, I suppose.
But the thought of having a place where I can hang a picture, where I can have some of my own stuff, in a neighborhood, walking distance to downtown Santa Rosa, it makes me momentarily happy. Perhaps happy for several months, who knows? We'll see what transpires.
Other than that, my little Monday-Tuesday job in Calistoga is fine, it's easy and quiet and no one bothers me. I am still learning the system, of course, but so far things haven't been too tricky, their computer reservation system isn't very complicated and even though they are full most of the time, the guests are all out doing touristy things and they thus leave me alone. It pays crap but I get all the yogurt and granola and fresh fruit I can eat. Yumm. Check it out here: http://www.eurospa.com/ Come and stay! I can get you a really good deal, especially in the winter, seriously.
That's it. I will let you know how the move goes. For the first time in 25 years I need to buy a mattress and perhaps a small couch. A place to sleep and something to sit on, the rest of what I need I already own and is stored somewhere. In Gabe and Annie's garage or out in Pt. Reyes in the barn.
Over and out for now. Thank all of you who have been so supportive for the past few months. The journey continues........
I still have doubts, of course, about the wisdom of committing to something for six or twelve months when I have no income except a two day a week, low paying job. The gig here at the inn runs out at the end of this week because there are no more bookings, and I don't anticipate the big winter special promotion to fill up the house in the near future. (Yes, pessimistic, I admit.) Once January 1 arrives, the previous manager will be back at work and thus, adios to me. Until it gets really busy, perhaps in late spring, it isn't a job that is demanding and so is easy for one person to handle. Without a good income, renting an apartment almost seems financially foolish. But onward I go, into the breach. If no work materializes by January 31, I can always walk away from the lease, forfeit my deposit and ....... do what? I don't know. Go back to Texas for a couple of months, I suppose.
But the thought of having a place where I can hang a picture, where I can have some of my own stuff, in a neighborhood, walking distance to downtown Santa Rosa, it makes me momentarily happy. Perhaps happy for several months, who knows? We'll see what transpires.
Other than that, my little Monday-Tuesday job in Calistoga is fine, it's easy and quiet and no one bothers me. I am still learning the system, of course, but so far things haven't been too tricky, their computer reservation system isn't very complicated and even though they are full most of the time, the guests are all out doing touristy things and they thus leave me alone. It pays crap but I get all the yogurt and granola and fresh fruit I can eat. Yumm. Check it out here: http://www.eurospa.com/ Come and stay! I can get you a really good deal, especially in the winter, seriously.
That's it. I will let you know how the move goes. For the first time in 25 years I need to buy a mattress and perhaps a small couch. A place to sleep and something to sit on, the rest of what I need I already own and is stored somewhere. In Gabe and Annie's garage or out in Pt. Reyes in the barn.
Over and out for now. Thank all of you who have been so supportive for the past few months. The journey continues........
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Movie review, DVD: Wallander
A Swedish writer, Henning Mannkel, has a series of detective novels featuring a policeman named Kurt Wallander and BBC created a few 90 minute movies out of these books. Kevin Branagh plays Wallender and he plays him quite well. Having read most of the books over the past ten years, I envisioned Wallender as a bit bigger, taller and more physically imposing but Branagh has the rest of the physicality down: the pasty skin, the three-day growth of beard, the hunched shoulders, dark brooding attitude, antisocial behavior. The crimes are usually unique and often gruesome and as in most foreign drama the viewer must pay attention and follow closely to figure out what is happening.
I got the DVDs out of the library but perhaps you can get them from Netflix as well. Worth watching and since they are each about 90 minutes, it is a short time frame compared to some current movies. Check them out..... great for a gray weekend day, curled up on the couch.
I got the DVDs out of the library but perhaps you can get them from Netflix as well. Worth watching and since they are each about 90 minutes, it is a short time frame compared to some current movies. Check them out..... great for a gray weekend day, curled up on the couch.
Sunday, Oct. 30
October, the best weather .... nice days, cold nights. Leaves changing on the trees, slight smell of wood burning fireplaces at times and up here, the smell of fermenting grapes. Nice.
Still looking for an apartment. Still looking for more part time work. I have a Monday-Tuesday gig in Calistoga at a little 13 room hotel and spa, just doing a little continental breakfast, checking guests out, making reservations, checking guests in in the afternoon. Easy. Pay is crappy but the people who run it are funnier than hell. They've been in the hospitality industry most of their lives and therefore have that jaded sense of human kind that comes with dealing with the public all the time. You must be nice to them but sometimes it's a struggle...... and sometimes they are very nice back! So far we have had many laughs at the guests' expense, unbeknownst to those guests.
My third "daughter" Stacey is in labor right now with her second child, or perhaps the kid has already been born. They didn't want to know if it was a boy or a girl, so this is rather exciting. Plus it is just such a miracle that babies get conceived, carried and born. I can't wait to see this one. Her first one, Sam, is, as many of you might know, the best kid to come into my life since Jenn and Gabe. Reaffirms faith in the process of life.
At the inn right now, waiting to check in guests and pour them wine and make them happy. Ah, customer service, the hallmark of the hospitality industry.
Movie reviews (DVD) coming up shortly.
Enjoy Halloween, if you like that sort of thing. Personally, I don't. But many do.
Think Cooper would like this outfit?
Still looking for an apartment. Still looking for more part time work. I have a Monday-Tuesday gig in Calistoga at a little 13 room hotel and spa, just doing a little continental breakfast, checking guests out, making reservations, checking guests in in the afternoon. Easy. Pay is crappy but the people who run it are funnier than hell. They've been in the hospitality industry most of their lives and therefore have that jaded sense of human kind that comes with dealing with the public all the time. You must be nice to them but sometimes it's a struggle...... and sometimes they are very nice back! So far we have had many laughs at the guests' expense, unbeknownst to those guests.
My third "daughter" Stacey is in labor right now with her second child, or perhaps the kid has already been born. They didn't want to know if it was a boy or a girl, so this is rather exciting. Plus it is just such a miracle that babies get conceived, carried and born. I can't wait to see this one. Her first one, Sam, is, as many of you might know, the best kid to come into my life since Jenn and Gabe. Reaffirms faith in the process of life.
At the inn right now, waiting to check in guests and pour them wine and make them happy. Ah, customer service, the hallmark of the hospitality industry.
Movie reviews (DVD) coming up shortly.
Enjoy Halloween, if you like that sort of thing. Personally, I don't. But many do.
Think Cooper would like this outfit?
Monday, October 24, 2011
Still not gone......
Continuing my search for lodging, apartment and cottages, sublets, etc. Nothing of merit so far, some really deserving of being torn down and put out of their misery. It is shocking, actually, that a rental agent can ask more than $1000 for a place that looks like a shack and justify it by saying "but it's just been painted!" As if paint can take away the air of desperation and debilitation. Seriously, a couple of "cottages" I have viewed make my trailer look lovely.
Same with the job market, not much out there. What is available pays so little ($12-14 per hour seems to be the high standard, $10 more likely) that it seems foolish to even consider such a job. But then one must start somewhere, even at the ripe old age of 61. Shite, never thought I would be in this position, as I have said over and over.
As foolish as it sounds, I keep coming back to the idea of just saying "fuck it" and taking $5000 out of my savings and going to France for a couple of months. I am sure I can bribe some friends into taking care of Cooper for a while and why not? Spend money here and be sad through the winter or spend money there and be happy! Not that I am really going to do that, not yet anyway, but trust me, I think of it every friggin day. The money holds me back a bit but even more than that is the feeling that I would be doing something irresponsible, which of course isn't true, but the nagging feeling of having to get a job, having to get a permanent place to live keeps snapping at me.
The guests at the inn here in Healdsburg have, for the most part, been great the past couple of weeks. Nice to chat with over their glass of wine in the afternoon, they eat everything on their plates in the morning and they are polite and not demanding. I am thinking, however, of putting a tip jar on the dining room table, a not-so-subtle way of making a little more money. (Kidding.) So at least this short-term work gig is pleasant. The weather is lovely, leaves on the grape vines are changing colors and I even bought pumpkins for decorating the inn! So unlike me, but hey, the guests need some autumn colors to look at while hanging out at the dining room table.
More to follow.....
Same with the job market, not much out there. What is available pays so little ($12-14 per hour seems to be the high standard, $10 more likely) that it seems foolish to even consider such a job. But then one must start somewhere, even at the ripe old age of 61. Shite, never thought I would be in this position, as I have said over and over.
As foolish as it sounds, I keep coming back to the idea of just saying "fuck it" and taking $5000 out of my savings and going to France for a couple of months. I am sure I can bribe some friends into taking care of Cooper for a while and why not? Spend money here and be sad through the winter or spend money there and be happy! Not that I am really going to do that, not yet anyway, but trust me, I think of it every friggin day. The money holds me back a bit but even more than that is the feeling that I would be doing something irresponsible, which of course isn't true, but the nagging feeling of having to get a job, having to get a permanent place to live keeps snapping at me.
The guests at the inn here in Healdsburg have, for the most part, been great the past couple of weeks. Nice to chat with over their glass of wine in the afternoon, they eat everything on their plates in the morning and they are polite and not demanding. I am thinking, however, of putting a tip jar on the dining room table, a not-so-subtle way of making a little more money. (Kidding.) So at least this short-term work gig is pleasant. The weather is lovely, leaves on the grape vines are changing colors and I even bought pumpkins for decorating the inn! So unlike me, but hey, the guests need some autumn colors to look at while hanging out at the dining room table.
More to follow.....
Monday, October 17, 2011
Still here......
In case you were wondering where I disappeared to, I am still here. There is no internet connection in my trailer and thus blogging at random times during the day is not possible. I feel odd writing this from the inn where I work but since it's available, here I sit, just to say I haven't gone anywhere.
I have begun the search for different lodging and that is quite the process, especially with a dog. But I will persevere and something will materialize. I don't really want to spend the winter living over my poop tank, to be crass, and being forced to deal with the quicksand-like mud that surrounds the trailer so I hope to be out by the end of this month. While I have no secure job, I do like this area and one has to begin somewhere. If I find a good place to live I can only hope the job will follow. If not, at least I will be safe and dry and sweet-smelling until early spring.
More to follow soon.
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I have begun the search for different lodging and that is quite the process, especially with a dog. But I will persevere and something will materialize. I don't really want to spend the winter living over my poop tank, to be crass, and being forced to deal with the quicksand-like mud that surrounds the trailer so I hope to be out by the end of this month. While I have no secure job, I do like this area and one has to begin somewhere. If I find a good place to live I can only hope the job will follow. If not, at least I will be safe and dry and sweet-smelling until early spring.
More to follow soon.
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Sunday, October 9, 2011
And the job story, again
I actually think I should capitalize the word 'job' and make it 'Job", as in the Bible story of the guy who was inflicted with woe after woe. Not that I am that woeful, but this job thing again is wearing me down. Three interviews this past week, one job offer that I would love to accept but it doesn't pay enough to pay my bills, one job that I am sure I wasn't "perky" enough for and one still a remote possibility. Sigh.
It's back to the job boards for me this week, that and trying to scare up some work here in Sonoma county. The substitute innkeeper job I currently have ends in about six weeks when reservations fall off dramatically. Getting work in the winter is tough in any industry, especially in lodging.
Yet I will persevere, as is my way. Might be time to start thinking of small, pagan sacrifices or trying to bribe some of the saints like St. Jude or St. Anthony. Something's gotta give, and soon.
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It's back to the job boards for me this week, that and trying to scare up some work here in Sonoma county. The substitute innkeeper job I currently have ends in about six weeks when reservations fall off dramatically. Getting work in the winter is tough in any industry, especially in lodging.
Yet I will persevere, as is my way. Might be time to start thinking of small, pagan sacrifices or trying to bribe some of the saints like St. Jude or St. Anthony. Something's gotta give, and soon.
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Book Review: "State of Wonder" by Ann Patchett
Up front I must confess that I am a huge Ann Patchett fan, so I was predisposed to like this book. And I loved it. The more I got into it, the farther the tale took me, the deeper into the Amazon the characters went, I went with them and became more taken by this story and the writing. It is probably a dumb thing to say about someone like Patchett but I will say it anyway: what a writer. That a person can, simply with everyday words, give you goosebumps or make you cry, is an amazing feat to me.
The story starts in Minnesota and ventures into the Amazon basin. While the plot centers around Marina, a medical researcher for a pharmacology company and her search for the truth about the death of a colleague, it is more a story of what the truth looks like for each individual person. The truth and what's right. A basic story of good vs greed, I guess, although whittling it down to that is too dismissive. But Patchett does that, she makes her characters stand for something, and that something is not always good. It could be greed or selfishness or it could be honesty or self-righteousness. No one is just a person in this story, everyone carries some weight.
But in the end it is a morality tale, at least to me. The oath that doctors take says, in part, to "do no harm" and this theme comes up again and again. There are many ways to do harm, aggressively or passively, and there are many ways to prevent that harm from being done. This story skirts those issues in a non-intrusive manner and many of the characters grapple with the thin line that separates the good for a few versus the good for society.
The bottom line is that I totally enjoyed this book. As I finished it and closed the book I almost wanted to start reading it again. I will, not just yet, but it is a keeper. When I was in Texas this summer Borders Bookstore was going out of business and when I went in to see what was left, all books were 75% off sticker price. I was lucky to snag a hard copy of this book and it is one to own.
The story starts in Minnesota and ventures into the Amazon basin. While the plot centers around Marina, a medical researcher for a pharmacology company and her search for the truth about the death of a colleague, it is more a story of what the truth looks like for each individual person. The truth and what's right. A basic story of good vs greed, I guess, although whittling it down to that is too dismissive. But Patchett does that, she makes her characters stand for something, and that something is not always good. It could be greed or selfishness or it could be honesty or self-righteousness. No one is just a person in this story, everyone carries some weight.
But in the end it is a morality tale, at least to me. The oath that doctors take says, in part, to "do no harm" and this theme comes up again and again. There are many ways to do harm, aggressively or passively, and there are many ways to prevent that harm from being done. This story skirts those issues in a non-intrusive manner and many of the characters grapple with the thin line that separates the good for a few versus the good for society.
The bottom line is that I totally enjoyed this book. As I finished it and closed the book I almost wanted to start reading it again. I will, not just yet, but it is a keeper. When I was in Texas this summer Borders Bookstore was going out of business and when I went in to see what was left, all books were 75% off sticker price. I was lucky to snag a hard copy of this book and it is one to own.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Rain, weddings and hope
Written on Monday afternoon:
You know how everyone likes the sound of rain on the roof? The sound of rain on a roof does not compare to the sound of rain on the roof of a trailer. This is intense. Cooper and I hear every drop and since we are under trees and it’s the first rain of the season we also hear all the little acorns and twigs dropping on the roof and it sounds incredible. I don’t know about the dog’s opinion but since rain is my favorite weather, I am loving this day. The downside is that the trailer sits on dirt so when we go outside (when Cooper has to pee or poop) it takes concentration to walk along the trailer to the driveway, lest we slip and slide and fall into the mud. But the sound and the smell of the rain make up for the mud, at least for today. This afternoon, as I was reading, I looked out the window and there was a Momma deer creeping along the path near the trailer followed not so closely behind by a tiny little fawn. I expect fawns in the spring but I guess they happen in the fall as well. It was maybe 30 inches tall, maybe 20 pounds, all legs and ears. I know deer are flea-bitten and they eat all kinds of plants but this little fawn was as cautious as a kid at a rodeo, listening to everything, waiting to cross the path and then leaping over to its Mom. So cute. Thankfully Cooper was sleeping, missed the entire scenario.
(This morning, Tuesday, I take back the part about the mud. It's a mess. And there was a dead rat just outside the door of the trailer this morning. Nice.)
You know how everyone likes the sound of rain on the roof? The sound of rain on a roof does not compare to the sound of rain on the roof of a trailer. This is intense. Cooper and I hear every drop and since we are under trees and it’s the first rain of the season we also hear all the little acorns and twigs dropping on the roof and it sounds incredible. I don’t know about the dog’s opinion but since rain is my favorite weather, I am loving this day. The downside is that the trailer sits on dirt so when we go outside (when Cooper has to pee or poop) it takes concentration to walk along the trailer to the driveway, lest we slip and slide and fall into the mud. But the sound and the smell of the rain make up for the mud, at least for today. This afternoon, as I was reading, I looked out the window and there was a Momma deer creeping along the path near the trailer followed not so closely behind by a tiny little fawn. I expect fawns in the spring but I guess they happen in the fall as well. It was maybe 30 inches tall, maybe 20 pounds, all legs and ears. I know deer are flea-bitten and they eat all kinds of plants but this little fawn was as cautious as a kid at a rodeo, listening to everything, waiting to cross the path and then leaping over to its Mom. So cute. Thankfully Cooper was sleeping, missed the entire scenario.
(This morning, Tuesday, I take back the part about the mud. It's a mess. And there was a dead rat just outside the door of the trailer this morning. Nice.)
What can I say about the celebrity wedding? If you don’t already know, Seth Rogen got married this weekend and most of the festivities were in Healdsburg. The wedding was in Sonoma but buses carried people everywhere. At the inn where I currently work there were about 7 people from the groom's side and 6 from the bride’s side and at the first breakfast on Saturday they all became instant best friends. This group sat at the table for at least 45 minutes after breakfast, talking, asking for more pancakes or toast and sharing photos and stories and it was the happiest, most congenial group I have met. They brought their cameras to breakfast and showed me photos of the cocktail party on Friday night, the sit-down dinner on Saturday night and of course the wedding on Sunday. I liked all of the guests and wanted to go home with them and hang out. If you know me at all, you know that happens rarely. Stellar group, stellar peeps, stellar events. If I ever get married again (insert barfing face here) I want to marry someone with a ton of money who thinks nothing of spending perhaps tens of thousands of dollars on flowers alone. The flowers at every event were extraordinary. Anyway, nice group, got to see photos of James Franco (hot!) and Paul Rudd (cute) and Edward Norton (totally regular looking, cute girlfriend) and a few other folks, including the bride and groom who looked so happy and adorable. Jewish wedding (duh) so they got married under the canopy thing called a chuppah which was festooned with flowers. Well, all this is from what I saw from the photos. Google the thing if you want more.
Now the inn is sort of back to normal. Some guests checking in tonight from France, cannot understand a word they say over the phone. Another couple tomorrow, then pretty much full house for the next 5 days. Eggs, toast, frittata, pancakes, again and again. Coffee, pots of it, tea, juice, over and over, rinse and repeat. Thank god I don't mind cooking.
On the job front, I have a couple of interviews this week for permanent, full-time jobs. Given what has gone on in the past two years for me, I am certainly not holding my breath on any of these but it is a positive sign. I wouldn't even mention it for fear of jinxing it, but since the three or four loyal readers of this blog have stuck with me through it all, I figured you deserved to know. If anything happens, fireworks will be scheduled.
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Friday, September 30, 2011
Movie review: "House of Games"
Without broadcast TV, I am watching a lot of old movies on DVD. I have seen Jeff Bridges in "Fearless", a stellar cast in "The Departed", a perennial favorite "L.A. Confidential" and last night watched "House of Games." Produced in 1987, written in part and directed by David Mamet, it is a cold look at the world of con men. I had forgotten how good it was, how even the audience gets pulled into the con.
Lindsay Crouse and Joe Montegna star, she as a psychiatrist trying to help a patient and he as the con man ostensibly teaching her the game. Things get down and dirty pretty quickly and even though it is a little dated (more than twenty years ago, after all) it still holds up. You can figure out the con if you try but sometimes it's a lot more fun to just go along for the ride.
I have to admit right up front that I am a sucker for movies about the con. From "The Sting" to "Nine Queens" to "Matchstick Men" and more, I love getting taken in and hung out to dry. I always fall for the game, always, sucker that I am. But check out "House of Games" if you are looking for an entertaining, twisty, well done drama.
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Lindsay Crouse and Joe Montegna star, she as a psychiatrist trying to help a patient and he as the con man ostensibly teaching her the game. Things get down and dirty pretty quickly and even though it is a little dated (more than twenty years ago, after all) it still holds up. You can figure out the con if you try but sometimes it's a lot more fun to just go along for the ride.
I have to admit right up front that I am a sucker for movies about the con. From "The Sting" to "Nine Queens" to "Matchstick Men" and more, I love getting taken in and hung out to dry. I always fall for the game, always, sucker that I am. But check out "House of Games" if you are looking for an entertaining, twisty, well done drama.
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Book Review: "The Unnamed" by Joshua Ferris
After reading "To Be Sung Underwater" in which the prose flowed like water, this book, "The Unnamed" was a jolt. It is terse, cold, brusque and felt like a piece of staccato music. The characters are not terribly likeable although you might have a bit of sympathy for them and you are compelled to read just to find out what happens to them.
The main character Tim has an unnamed disease: uncontrollable walking. He cannot predict when this malady will strike nor can he stop it when it does. The best he can do is keep a backpack with him at all times so once the marathon walking begins he at least has a hat, gloves, new socks, something to shield him from the forces of the weather. The urge comes over him at any moment, he could be in the middle of a sentence, in the middle of a court case, and he turns and walks away and doesn't stop sometimes for days. When exhaustion finally overtakes his body he simply falls asleep somewhere. It is up to his wife to find him and pick him up. She finds him sleeping in graveyards or behind gas stations or on park benches, dirty, torn and incredibly weary.
This is a tough story, nothing about it is fun or even remotely like life. It's an allegory of modern day disconnect. This man is controlled physically by his body and yet his mind cannot overcome that physicality. He moves relentlessly without desire, faces brutal weather and exhaustion, has alienated his daughter and wife and co-workers, has no friends and basically no purpose in life other than to obey the command to move. It could have been depressing but instead I found it more distancing than depressing.
About three quarters through the book I was wishing for a little hand-drawn map of where Tim's walks took him. Something that would give credence to his unwilling walking. That would have been too real, it would have made his story seem plausible. I suppose that's why I wanted it.
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The main character Tim has an unnamed disease: uncontrollable walking. He cannot predict when this malady will strike nor can he stop it when it does. The best he can do is keep a backpack with him at all times so once the marathon walking begins he at least has a hat, gloves, new socks, something to shield him from the forces of the weather. The urge comes over him at any moment, he could be in the middle of a sentence, in the middle of a court case, and he turns and walks away and doesn't stop sometimes for days. When exhaustion finally overtakes his body he simply falls asleep somewhere. It is up to his wife to find him and pick him up. She finds him sleeping in graveyards or behind gas stations or on park benches, dirty, torn and incredibly weary.
This is a tough story, nothing about it is fun or even remotely like life. It's an allegory of modern day disconnect. This man is controlled physically by his body and yet his mind cannot overcome that physicality. He moves relentlessly without desire, faces brutal weather and exhaustion, has alienated his daughter and wife and co-workers, has no friends and basically no purpose in life other than to obey the command to move. It could have been depressing but instead I found it more distancing than depressing.
About three quarters through the book I was wishing for a little hand-drawn map of where Tim's walks took him. Something that would give credence to his unwilling walking. That would have been too real, it would have made his story seem plausible. I suppose that's why I wanted it.
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Thursday, September 29, 2011
More on the trailer
Cooper and I are settling into our unsettled life in the trailer, albeit somewhat hesitantly. The bottom line is that it feels so temporary that it is difficult to call it home. But I have cooked a couple of dinners on the stove-top (there is no oven) and Cooper finds it nice to hang out on the small lawn area at cocktail hour while I sit in a chair and read. That's the best part of the day.
There is one small problem with trailer living, at least when you are not hooked up to a campground's septic system. Since the toilet is just a large holding container for the black water (i.e. poop and pee) there is always a slight smell of..... well, poop in the air. Not terrible, not like an outhouse or a porta-potty on a hot day, but it's there. Ah, well, I suppose it is just Mother Nature having a laugh at my expense.
This weekend there is a full house at the inn because of a celebrity wedding in town! Actually, it's not in our town, it is in Napa, but the celebrity has paid for all the rooms and has made all the arrangements through an event coordinator. Looking at the list of our guests, it is clear that no celebs are staying with us unless they are using their aliases. I rather doubt it, most high end guests will be spending their weekends at the high-end places in Napa like Meadowood and Auberge del Soleil, where rooms are in the $2000 per night range. I cannot tell you the name of the celebrity yet, but I will perhaps tomorrow. The manager of this inn I am working at has been sworn to secrecy lest the paparazzi show up! But rest assured, while this guy has made a ton of money, he ain't no George Clooney.
That's it for now, another book review tomorrow.
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There is one small problem with trailer living, at least when you are not hooked up to a campground's septic system. Since the toilet is just a large holding container for the black water (i.e. poop and pee) there is always a slight smell of..... well, poop in the air. Not terrible, not like an outhouse or a porta-potty on a hot day, but it's there. Ah, well, I suppose it is just Mother Nature having a laugh at my expense.
This weekend there is a full house at the inn because of a celebrity wedding in town! Actually, it's not in our town, it is in Napa, but the celebrity has paid for all the rooms and has made all the arrangements through an event coordinator. Looking at the list of our guests, it is clear that no celebs are staying with us unless they are using their aliases. I rather doubt it, most high end guests will be spending their weekends at the high-end places in Napa like Meadowood and Auberge del Soleil, where rooms are in the $2000 per night range. I cannot tell you the name of the celebrity yet, but I will perhaps tomorrow. The manager of this inn I am working at has been sworn to secrecy lest the paparazzi show up! But rest assured, while this guy has made a ton of money, he ain't no George Clooney.
That's it for now, another book review tomorrow.
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Monday, September 26, 2011
Book Review: "To Be Sung Underwater" by Tom McNeal
What a pleasure it was to read this book. I could ramble on and on about how much I liked it but you still wouldn't get a feel for it without picking it up yourself. It is all about the language, the writing, the clarity of every single word and sentence. The characters are so well drawn it's as if you know them, as they are now and as they were 25 years ago. How the settings are depicted, whether in a city or out in the wilderness or in a bedroom, are true and vivid without being overly painted. You can almost feel the change in the temperature when McNeal writes about the sun setting behind the mountains. You can almost smell the dampness of the enclosure in the trees where the two characters are whiling away the afternoon. The emotions of Judith and Willy are so true that sometimes you have to put the book down and just wait a moment before reading on. It's a book where every sentence is to be savored, you don't want to skip around and miss anything.
The story is simple, two young people meet, fall in love, almost commit their lives to each other. The story starts in the present, when Judith is in her forties, and goes back and forth from the present to their past. The pace of the story is languid, relaxed, time moving slowly. Characters stop and take naps, revel in the stillness of laying on a blanket in the grass. But it is never boring or slow.
I am not sure I liked the ending but by then I was so captivated by the characters, the sense of place and the story that I didn't care if I liked it or not. I didn't want the book to end, and when it did I had to read the last part a couple of times to be sure I didn't miss anything. Read this book if you get a chance and tell me what you think. There is wisdom in this book about life and love and the land and I cannot wait for Tom McNeal to write another one.
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The story is simple, two young people meet, fall in love, almost commit their lives to each other. The story starts in the present, when Judith is in her forties, and goes back and forth from the present to their past. The pace of the story is languid, relaxed, time moving slowly. Characters stop and take naps, revel in the stillness of laying on a blanket in the grass. But it is never boring or slow.
I am not sure I liked the ending but by then I was so captivated by the characters, the sense of place and the story that I didn't care if I liked it or not. I didn't want the book to end, and when it did I had to read the last part a couple of times to be sure I didn't miss anything. Read this book if you get a chance and tell me what you think. There is wisdom in this book about life and love and the land and I cannot wait for Tom McNeal to write another one.
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Sunday, September 25, 2011
Sunday morning thinking
Musings on the trailer life, work and more:
Living in a trailer means several things, some of which I do not wish to contemplate. However, it does force you to be neat and tidy, concise in your actions and particular about what you store in the small space. If you leave dirty dishes out, for example, the entire place looks trashy because there is no way to hide the mess. If you toss clothes on the bed (you can't toss them on the floor because there is no floor space in the bedroom area, the bed takes up almost the entire room) then obviously your bed always is a mess. The good side is that it's rather difficult to loose something because you can stand in one spot and see every surface in the place. There are few hiding places. It also means that you can only have a few things on hangers and a few things in the 4 very small drawers so your wardrobe becomes instantly tiny. Same six shirts, rotated each day, two pairs of jeans, one pair of shorts and some tee shirts and underwear. One sweatshirt. That's about it.
The mental gyrations I am facing about living in this trailer are harder to describe. Yes, I am happy to have a roof over my head that isn't simply the roof of my car. It is a safe place to live and pleasant enough. I have water when I turn on the tap and when the days are really hot there is air conditioning as well. Heat in the winter, lights in the dark, all those things. I am not feeling sorry for myself but I am feeling some sense of discomfort. Remember when you were little and you would spin around on the lawn for several seconds and then would stop and the world would keep moving? That's how I feel. Like I have landed in this one place but there is no solid ground, things are still tilting around me. It is disorienting. How did I get here, at the age of 61, with no secure job and no secure housing? It is just so odd.
I am continuing my job search, of course, recognizing that this substitute innkeeper job is just that, a temporary gig. It would be nice to plan on living in Healdsburg for a while but that possibility seems tenuous at best. The innkeeper job is something I do well and it's an easy, part-time job, averaging about 25 hours a week. What I need is something closer to 40 hours. The search continues.
Right now, the best I can do is try and keep the spinning feeling from making me totally nuts. I am reading a really good book and that helps, it makes me focus on someone else's life for a while.
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Living in a trailer means several things, some of which I do not wish to contemplate. However, it does force you to be neat and tidy, concise in your actions and particular about what you store in the small space. If you leave dirty dishes out, for example, the entire place looks trashy because there is no way to hide the mess. If you toss clothes on the bed (you can't toss them on the floor because there is no floor space in the bedroom area, the bed takes up almost the entire room) then obviously your bed always is a mess. The good side is that it's rather difficult to loose something because you can stand in one spot and see every surface in the place. There are few hiding places. It also means that you can only have a few things on hangers and a few things in the 4 very small drawers so your wardrobe becomes instantly tiny. Same six shirts, rotated each day, two pairs of jeans, one pair of shorts and some tee shirts and underwear. One sweatshirt. That's about it.
The mental gyrations I am facing about living in this trailer are harder to describe. Yes, I am happy to have a roof over my head that isn't simply the roof of my car. It is a safe place to live and pleasant enough. I have water when I turn on the tap and when the days are really hot there is air conditioning as well. Heat in the winter, lights in the dark, all those things. I am not feeling sorry for myself but I am feeling some sense of discomfort. Remember when you were little and you would spin around on the lawn for several seconds and then would stop and the world would keep moving? That's how I feel. Like I have landed in this one place but there is no solid ground, things are still tilting around me. It is disorienting. How did I get here, at the age of 61, with no secure job and no secure housing? It is just so odd.
I am continuing my job search, of course, recognizing that this substitute innkeeper job is just that, a temporary gig. It would be nice to plan on living in Healdsburg for a while but that possibility seems tenuous at best. The innkeeper job is something I do well and it's an easy, part-time job, averaging about 25 hours a week. What I need is something closer to 40 hours. The search continues.
Right now, the best I can do is try and keep the spinning feeling from making me totally nuts. I am reading a really good book and that helps, it makes me focus on someone else's life for a while.
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Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Trailer photos
As promised, here are a few photos of my new abode. It looks bigger than it feels, but that's ok. Also, if I was much taller I would have been decapitated by now or at least have many bruises and bumps on my head. It isn't made for tall people. There are several good things about it, one being that since it is so small and space is so limited, you can't really leave things lying about. Everything gets put away quickly so it stays neat and tidy. The last photo is of the view I see once I walk out of the trailer, towards my car. The view I have out the door is of the side of the owner's house which is totally boring. But really, I don't stand at the door all that often and I can walk down the path and sit on a chair under a tree and read.
While it does have a table that seats four, two of those four would have to either have no legs or be very tiny. You can see a bit of the bedroom back there and the bathroom is on the right going towards the bedroom. The bed is quite comfy, almost a queen size bed. Cooper will like it.
This is walking along the side of the trailer, going towards where I park my car. Not the attractive part of the yard, obviously. That grassy area is the front yard of the owners. It's quite pretty, actually.
This is along the side of the driveway. I can take a chair out and sit down near my car and read and look out onto the open space past that group of trees. The stuff along the driveway there are just some of the toys belonging to their grandkids. I don't get to play with them. And now you have seen my new digs. Pretty impressive! And hey, it's not in Texas!
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Saturday, September 17, 2011
Small, cozy, portable!
Before you all jump on the "trailer trash" bandwagon, I want to assure you that just because my new living digs are portable it in no way means I will now eat a lot of Cheeto's and drink cheap beer out of a can and have oily, greasy hair. Cheap wine, yes. Cheap beer, no.
I am up here in Healdsburg again, subbing for my friend Margaret, who shattered her leg last week and therefore cannot take on the role of innkeeper. The inn is quite busy this time of year so there are guests pretty much every night which means many days of work for the next two months at least. I am sorry that Margaret broke her leg, of course, but grateful for the work.
But working here posed the obvious question: where will I live? Getting an apartment seemed too difficult at this point because I don't have enough pay stubs to show to a prospective landlord. Margaret was kind enough to talk to many of her friends and somehow magically convinced one couple to rent their trailer to me for a month or so! Yes, a trailer! It is not, unfortunately, an Airstream, which would have been pretty cool. But it is decent size, has a nice couch, small kitchen, teeny bathroom with shower and a queen size bed. It has heat, air conditioning and a small TV. It's on the same property as the owners' house but there is a lot of land there and hey, the price is not expensive and it keeps me off the streets at night. Cooper has not yet seen it, but I think he will like it. There are squirrels for him to chase and that alone will give meaning to his life.
It's so odd, this untethered life. For the first time in 61 years I don't really have a place to live, at least not until this trailer offer. I am not complaining, at least I am in California instead of other states I could mention. But still, it's a rather unsettling situation, one that I am trying to simply plow through without a great deal of conscious thought. If I think about it too much it freaks me out: no permanent job, no permanent home, no permanent income. And yes, I know that nothing in life is permanent but this might be taking that philosophy a little too far.
Tonight will be my first night in my new trailer home and will hopefully post some photos of it tomorrow. First I need to stock up on beer, pretzels, Cheese-whiz, TV dinners and some National Enquirer tabloids so I can do justice to the trailer theme.
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I am up here in Healdsburg again, subbing for my friend Margaret, who shattered her leg last week and therefore cannot take on the role of innkeeper. The inn is quite busy this time of year so there are guests pretty much every night which means many days of work for the next two months at least. I am sorry that Margaret broke her leg, of course, but grateful for the work.
But working here posed the obvious question: where will I live? Getting an apartment seemed too difficult at this point because I don't have enough pay stubs to show to a prospective landlord. Margaret was kind enough to talk to many of her friends and somehow magically convinced one couple to rent their trailer to me for a month or so! Yes, a trailer! It is not, unfortunately, an Airstream, which would have been pretty cool. But it is decent size, has a nice couch, small kitchen, teeny bathroom with shower and a queen size bed. It has heat, air conditioning and a small TV. It's on the same property as the owners' house but there is a lot of land there and hey, the price is not expensive and it keeps me off the streets at night. Cooper has not yet seen it, but I think he will like it. There are squirrels for him to chase and that alone will give meaning to his life.
It's so odd, this untethered life. For the first time in 61 years I don't really have a place to live, at least not until this trailer offer. I am not complaining, at least I am in California instead of other states I could mention. But still, it's a rather unsettling situation, one that I am trying to simply plow through without a great deal of conscious thought. If I think about it too much it freaks me out: no permanent job, no permanent home, no permanent income. And yes, I know that nothing in life is permanent but this might be taking that philosophy a little too far.
Tonight will be my first night in my new trailer home and will hopefully post some photos of it tomorrow. First I need to stock up on beer, pretzels, Cheese-whiz, TV dinners and some National Enquirer tabloids so I can do justice to the trailer theme.
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Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Back in the USSR
"Been away so long I hardly knew the place, gee, it's good to be back home." Well, no, I recognized the place (not the USSR, but California) right away and gee, it's good to be back home. It's cold and foggy in Daly City right now, deeply gloomy, depressingly gray and I am so happy about that. I know I have said this before, but that condition that people get when they haven't had enough sunshine? It's called SAD, Seasonal Affective Disorder. I have the opposite disorder. I have SDM. Sunshine Depresses Me. Not sunshine per se. Just tons of sunshine. Too many sunny days make me gloomy. I like a little sun and then some overcast days. Then a little sun, like three days and then some rain. Then some more rain, like 15 days and two sunny days. Then more rain. In the summer, if it really must be sunny, it is best, for me, if the temp does not exceed 75. And best if there are a couple of cloudy days per week and the nights cool down to 65, minimum.
So, you can see why my stay in Texas was so shocking. It wasn't just the heat, it was no cloudy days. Sun, sun, sun, over and over. It was relentless, like a Chinese water torture, drip by drip, sunny day after sunny day, no cool nights. It was as if I was in a science fiction movie, being tortured by light, sunny, happy aliens. But they weren't aliens, they were just the weather people on TV, every day saying the dreaded words: TRIPLE DIGITS. Those two words were like a Satan mantra in Texas, every friggin day I was there. TD, TD, TD over and over. I was not happy about that. But I could not change it. I was a prisoner of the weather, sunny, hot and cruel. It was meltingly mad.
OK, TMI, deep breath, but now I am back in the land that I know, the coast I love and random parts of my random families that I love. I drove 3,000 miles, almost exactly, from Texas a week ago. I drove through these states: Texas, Oklahoma, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, Washington, Oregon and back to California. Nine states in 6 days, three thousand miles, a huge national park and numerous state parks, several doggish motels and perhaps two nice ones, one really awful meal and many apples, cheese and cracker dinners. Two McDonald's Egg McMuffins, four small double lattes from Starbucks, lots of BeerNuts, four yogurts taken from my free crappy breakfast buffets provided by the many motels I stayed in, a roll of Starburst, one Snickers bar, many raisins and dried cranberries, one package of Peanut M&Ms, two Lean Cuisines bought at local markets and nuked in the privacy of my sleazy hotel room, a pint of Johnny Walker, a pint of Jack, two bottles of wine, a box of animal crackers, some bad beef jerky and at least ten large bottles of water. Really, that's all I can remember eating in the six days on the road. Nothing good. Never had a pizza delivered to my room, although I thought about it often. Never really went out to eat because that was never an option in the small towns I stayed in.
Here in Daly City it is quiet and nice and it is like being home. Tomorrow I leave again, moving northward. I hope I can find a more permanent perch than what I have had the last week and I think that is possible. Maybe. Perhaps.
.
So, you can see why my stay in Texas was so shocking. It wasn't just the heat, it was no cloudy days. Sun, sun, sun, over and over. It was relentless, like a Chinese water torture, drip by drip, sunny day after sunny day, no cool nights. It was as if I was in a science fiction movie, being tortured by light, sunny, happy aliens. But they weren't aliens, they were just the weather people on TV, every day saying the dreaded words: TRIPLE DIGITS. Those two words were like a Satan mantra in Texas, every friggin day I was there. TD, TD, TD over and over. I was not happy about that. But I could not change it. I was a prisoner of the weather, sunny, hot and cruel. It was meltingly mad.
OK, TMI, deep breath, but now I am back in the land that I know, the coast I love and random parts of my random families that I love. I drove 3,000 miles, almost exactly, from Texas a week ago. I drove through these states: Texas, Oklahoma, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, Washington, Oregon and back to California. Nine states in 6 days, three thousand miles, a huge national park and numerous state parks, several doggish motels and perhaps two nice ones, one really awful meal and many apples, cheese and cracker dinners. Two McDonald's Egg McMuffins, four small double lattes from Starbucks, lots of BeerNuts, four yogurts taken from my free crappy breakfast buffets provided by the many motels I stayed in, a roll of Starburst, one Snickers bar, many raisins and dried cranberries, one package of Peanut M&Ms, two Lean Cuisines bought at local markets and nuked in the privacy of my sleazy hotel room, a pint of Johnny Walker, a pint of Jack, two bottles of wine, a box of animal crackers, some bad beef jerky and at least ten large bottles of water. Really, that's all I can remember eating in the six days on the road. Nothing good. Never had a pizza delivered to my room, although I thought about it often. Never really went out to eat because that was never an option in the small towns I stayed in.
Here in Daly City it is quiet and nice and it is like being home. Tomorrow I leave again, moving northward. I hope I can find a more permanent perch than what I have had the last week and I think that is possible. Maybe. Perhaps.
.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Straddling state lines
Yesterday's drive started off in Idaho, crossed over to Washington state for 100 miles and then into Oregon. I drove all the way down US 395, a road I have driven dozens of times from Reno south, but I have never been on this part of 395. It's quite nice, some forest and a lot of high desert and no one on the road. The speed limit in OR is 55 mph, which doesn't work for me, of course, so I sped along at 75. No cops. Drove along some beautiful lakes, flat, almost like salt lakes and ended up in a teeny town last night called Lakeview, although it doesn't really have a view of the lake but perhaps in the olden days it did. It does have a few of many unsavory looking houses and a lot of dead grass. Today I am looking forward to passing Goose Lake which straddles the California and Oregon border.
I should be back in the bay area in a couple of days. Today I think I will be able to stop near Sacramento and see where my Mom is now living, since she has moved into a kind of retirement community and I yet to see it. After that, who knows.
Goose Lake, supposedly. Although these two photos don't look like the same lake! I soon will know which one is the imposter, which is the true lake.
I should be back in the bay area in a couple of days. Today I think I will be able to stop near Sacramento and see where my Mom is now living, since she has moved into a kind of retirement community and I yet to see it. After that, who knows.
Goose Lake, supposedly. Although these two photos don't look like the same lake! I soon will know which one is the imposter, which is the true lake..
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